


Sunshine Boys

by albabutter



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, One Shot, Phone Sex, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albabutter/pseuds/albabutter
Summary: Nobody in Oceanside got the memo that Adrian is now in hands off territory. He’s friendly and popular, and he doesn’t really pull away from anyone. Deran doesn’t do anything, can’t really, but it still pisses him off to no fucking end. Adrian gives him a look like he knows exactly what Deran’s thinking and shrugs him off with an unimpressed look.‘Do something then.’
Relationships: Deran Cody/Adrian Dolan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76
Collections: Animal Kingdom ▶ Deran Cody / Adrian Dolan





	Sunshine Boys

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to address the fact that Deran beats the shit out of Adrian, but this is from Deran's POV. I say that because he thinks Adrian is crazy/stupid to come back after what is essentially abuse. 
> 
> Nobody, fictional or real, is crazy or stupid for 'returning' or 'remaining' in an abusive relationship. Domestic abuse is complex and complicated, and abuse victims are not responsible for abuse and violence that's directed towards them. Deran is wrong in his thinking and in his actions. But he, in my opinion, doesn't think of himself as an abuser, and I'm not sure the show views him that way either. That being said, this is from Deran's POV, so we don't know how Adrian feels about it either. Just wanted to address that upfront, and if that's triggering for you, please don't read.

_ ‘You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.’ _

It’s easy to pinpoint when everything went wrong. When Julia dies, when J shows up, when Adrian ends up in the hospital. 

No. When he  _ puts _ Adrian in the hospital. Even now, Deran can’t believe he had the balls to take Adrian back into his bed, or that Adrian was crazy or stupid enough to let him. 

_ Just get him on a plane, out of the country, away from Pope and the cops and the drugs and the kind of guy who left him bleeding on a bathroom floor, all because he was afraid.   
_

His head has been nothing but ‘ _ Adrian, safe, keep Adrian safe _ ’ for weeks, but he’s a professional fucking thief, and he knows from literal experience, that nothing stays safe. 

He goes home and strips down and falls into bed. He’s right to let him go, and Adrian is right to leave, but it’s their bed, and all Deran can smell is Adrian’s fucking overpriced shampoo. He passes out on Adrian’s side of the bed. 

The apartment looks like Adrian never left, and Deran knows, logically, that Adrian’s bag was the same one he used for surfing, that surfers always have a bag ready to go cause you never know when you’re gonna hear about the next big swell down the coast. But it still feels like maybe Adrian always had one foot out the door, like everything important was in the bag, and everything else he could replace. 

_ ‘Was this even home? Did you ever really feel safe here? Did you ever feel safe with me?’ _

Safe. 

Smurf was safe until she wasn’t, until Deran realized she was never safe in the first place. Deran built a bar and bought a house and dug himself out of the goddamn trap he’d been born into. And brought Adrian long for the ride. Because Adrian felt safe. 

_ BarBeachBedBelize _ . It always comes back to Belize. 

* * *

Deran never really recovers from Belize. He comes home sunkissed and blonder than ever, and he ends up smothered in familial affection, or the Cody family equivalent. Baz gives him shit about his temper tantrum, and Craig pulls him into a headlock that ends up in the pool. And Smurf is Smurf. She makes them chili and does his laundry, and her hands pet his hair and skim over his shoulders. But he pulls away when she goes to kiss him. Baz frowns, and she looks hurt, but it feels weird- _ wrong- _ the memory of Adrian’s hands too fresh. Deran kisses Smurf on the cheek to make it up to her, and it seems to be enough. He puts up with the jokes about the baby bird finally leaving the nest and turns his phone off to stop himself from doing something stupid. 

(He dropped Adrian off, so he knows that he got home safe, knows that he’s dead tired, and knows that they’re both going to be sleeping alone tonight.)

Deran waits until he’s in bed to press his fingers against the mouth shaped bruise on his thigh. It hurts, and he’s hard, and he slips one hand between his thighs and the other on his phone. He’s already close by the time Adrian picks up. HIs voice is hoarse and quiet, and Deran knows that he woke him up.

“D?”

Deran doesn’t say anything, let’s his breathing do the talking for him. Adrian’s smart, so he clues in pretty quickly, and Deran can tell by the way he inhales that he’s wide awake. He’s not sure if Adrian’s touching himself, but he can hear him shifting around on the other end, and the thought of Adrian rolling around in bed makes his hand move faster. He’s breathing pretty heavy at this point, and Adrian gives him the push he needs. 

“Come on, Deran.”

It’s something Adrian says a lot. Usually it means,  _ ‘knock it off’ _ or  _ ‘let’s go’ _ but this time he says it like hearing Deran come over the phone is the single most important thing he’s ever done. It works. He doesn’t shout when he comes--years of jerking off to sports illustrated (non-swimsuit edition) and surf interviews in a house where no one understands the concept of a closed door means he’s mastered the silent orgasm. But he’s still panting in a way that Adrian will understand. Deran comes down gradually, until they’re breathing in sync. It’s nice until he remembers where he is, and he can already feel the guilt creeping in. But Adrian, like some kind of psychic who can sense shame from a mile away, sighs into the phone. 

“Get some sleep, D.”

He doesn’t reply, but he does sleep. 

* * *

Nobody really bothers him about disappearing. 

“What’d you get up to down there, bro?”

Deran shrugs it off. “Surf, smoke, sleep. Rinse and repeat.”

And it’s true enough - surf (with Adrian), smoke (with Adrian), sleep (with Adrian). 

“I hear that, man.”

His brothers leave it at that, and Smurf just pretends he never left. He’s too relieved to be insulted that no one gives that much of a shit about what he does when he’s not busy being a professional Cody. Deran makes it a day and a half before he breaks down and goes to find Adrian. 

The sunburn faded weeks ago, and there’s nothing but smooth skin and freckles left. Adrian finishes the board he’s working on, and Deran buys a pound of fish tacos. Adrian’s sweaty and smells like resin, and fish tacos are the least sexy thing to watch someone shove into their mouth, but Deran still ends up between his legs. 

* * *

The first time in Belize, Adrian makes the first move, because he knows Deran, knows that he wants this, and knows that he’s too much of a goddamn coward to do anything about it. Adrian’s sneaky about it. He waits til they’re alone, smoking on the porch of the shitty bungalow. He leans over and shotguns him, puts a hand on his neck to hold him still. They both keep their eyes open, even though the smoke burns, and Deran knows the exact moment when Adrian is about to pull away. But Deran goes for it. 

Their first kiss is...sloppy and doesn’t quite land right. The next one isn’t much better. But Adrian slows him down, holds his face, and gets the angle right. Deran falls onto the bed, and Adrian straddles him without breaking the kiss. He keeps his hands on Deran’s face, stroking his cheek before tangling in his hair. He yanks his head back and works his mouth down Deran’s throat, and it’s good, really fucking good, and so much better than any of the girls he’s forced himself to kiss over the years. Deran’s hands get with the program and start peeling Adrian out of his clothes. They’re naked in thirty seconds flat, and it doesn’t matter that the bed kind of smells like mildew, and that there’s sand fucking everywhere, because Adrian has got his hand between them, slick with spit, and there are freckles on his shoulders, and the grin on his face is the same one he has when he nails a perfect wave. Deran doesn’t last long, but neither does Adrian, and when he comes, it’s with Deran’s name on his tongue. 

Adrian rolls off and wipes his hand on the comforter. They don’t cuddle, because it’s Central America, and it’s hot. And they don’t talk because talking will make it real. But he wraps his pinky around Adrian’s as they catch their breath, and the smile he gets is worth it. The next four weeks are pretty much just non-stop surfing and fucking. He goes a little overboard, and Adrian teases him about acting like he’s fifteen again, but he rolls with it. He shows Deran exactly what he likes and doesn’t kick him when Deran goes down on him with just a little too much bite. He laughs when he gets tackled into bed, and he’s indulgent on the terrible attempt at beach sex. When Deran comes too early watching Adrian finger himself open, he’s smug, but he doesn’t make any jokes. He cleans him up with his tongue, and they call it even. It’s one thing to jerk-off to it in porn and another to see it happening in front of you --  _ for you _ , and when he says it outloud, Adrian gets a look on his face that’s suspiciously close to sympathy, and Deran can’t stand it. 

* * *

There’s a honeymoon phase after Belize where sneaking around is fun. The thrill of getting caught making it hotter. It’s summer, and Smurf is happy and the money is flowing. It’s the perfect set-up. They make it about five months before Belize turns into one of those memories that happened a million years ago and may or may not have actually happened anyway. Adrian disappears to tournaments, and Deran can’t quite decide how he feels about it, so he keeps his mouth shut and punches him in the shoulder for luck instead of kissing him like he wants to. He starts breaking into Adrian’s apartment when he’s gone and sleeping in his bed when he can get away with it-- too many nights away from Smurf’s house, and she gets suspicious, and his brothers start looking for him. But Deran doesn’t spend the night when Adrian’s actually home, and it drives Adrian up the wall. Deran takes catnaps after they  _ fucksurfsmoke _ , but he never stays for longer than he can explain - Call of Duty, surfing videos, premium kush. Half the time it’s true, the other half, he’s curled around Adrian like an octopus. 

They go from living in each other’s pockets (and beds) to being a foot apart all the time. Oceanside boys are a touchy bunch, a lot of fighting and wrestling, arms over shoulders, a thousand ways to push and pull someone - in a pool, off a skateboard, into a headlock. Nobody in Oceanside got the memo that Adrian is now in hands off territory. He’s friendly and popular, and he doesn’t really pull away from anyone. Deran doesn’t do anything, can’t really, but it still pisses him off to no fucking end. Adrian gives him a look like he knows exactly what Deran’s thinking and shrugs him off with an unimpressed look. 

_ ‘Do something then.’ _

But Deran doesn’t. He keeps his hands to himself and pouts alone with a beer. Later, he bears Adrian down into his fucking futon and makes it clear whose hands belong on his body. No one thinks anything of it when Adrian starts coming and going from competitions with deep hickeys, made all the more obvious by his pale skin. He gets teased about sleeping with another surfer or even a judge, and he brushes it off easily enough. Deran’s biting into his hip when he brings it up. 

“Maybe you should just write ‘ _ property of D. Cody’ _ on my ass. Give your mouth a break.”

He’s joking, but Deran still goes a little hot at the thought. Adrian props himself up on his elbows and watches him. 

“You know there’s no one else, right?”

Deran doesn’t want to talk about this, so he just ruins it instead.

“I don’t give a shit if you fuck your way to the top. Fuck whoever you want.”

It’s a lie, and they both know it, but Adrian doesn’t call him on it. It helps that Deran has his dick in his mouth. 

Adrian puts up with it for another month before he pushes Deran away. 

“Knock it off. That shit’s getting old.”

“Christ, what’s the problem? If I’d known you were gonna be such a girl about it, I wouldn’t have-”

“Yeah, you would. Cause you’re a possessive asshole.”

“Look, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then how come I don’t get to mark you up?”

They both know why, and Deran’s already half-dressed, so it’s a lot easier to just leave. That turns into a routine too. Running from the cops (with his brothers) and running from fights (with Adrian). He figures out that he doesn’t really know how to fight with Adrian. His brothers are easy-- you just keep punching until someone taps out. Smurf? Just disappear on her ass. But Adrian? Hitting Adrian just turns into fucking Adrian, and he’s just as likely to disappear as Deran is. What’s worse is that Deran can never make it stick. He crawls back to Adrian the same way he crawls back to Smurf. He tries not to read too much into that. Adrian never has to go looking for him either. Just waits for him to come back (he’s never surprised to find Deran loitering in the surf shop or passed out in his bed.) But he doesn’t hold it against him, doesn’t mock him for being too weak to stay away. He calls him a dick and doesn’t share his weed, but he doesn’t shut Deran out. It’s a key difference. But Adrian’s smart, and the longer they do whatever it is they’re doing, the harder he puts his foot down. 

Deran shows up in the middle of the night, bleeding with twenty grand in his pants. Adrian takes one look at him and points him to the door. 

“I’m not your alibi, and I’m not gonna lie for you, Deran. I’m not a Cody.”

At the time, he’s fucking pissed as hell, but he gets it. It’s kind of nice to have this one fucking thing that Smurf can’t touch. Adrian doesn’t ask him questions, and Deran doesn’t give him any details. 

“I’m not going to prison for you, D,” and he knows that Adrian means it, but it’s hard to take him serious when he’s riding his dick. 

“What the hell would you even do if I went away?”

Adrian rolls his eyes and grinds down on him.

“Oh, no. Whatever will I do without a felon in my bed?”

He gets a smack on the ass for that, and they’re both laughing when they come. Deran spends years trying to stick to his word, but he’s selfish, and Cody men have never met a promise they couldn’t break. 

* * *

Deran rolls out of their--his--bed and stumbles into the bathroom. He looks like shit in the bathroom mirror and wonders if he should get another haircut. Cause that’s the type of shit you do after a break up, when the fighting is over and the texting stops, and you need some kind of proof that you’re still here and breathing. He drinks a six pack instead and stares at the fading bruise on his hip. It’s nothing compared to the lovebites he left on Adrian over the years. Like all the Codys, he loves too hard and then wonders why it breaks. There’s a picture of Craig’s son on his phone, and Deran thanks god for small gay miracles that he doesn’t have to worry about ruining another boy with this bullshit. 

It’s bad enough he ruined one.


End file.
